Played

by Tasha Fawkes

  He merely winked, paused long enough to allow me to get one step ahead of him, and then followed, his eyes lingering on my ass. I sighed. When we got top side, Kristin quickly removed her skirt and unbuttoned her blouse, revealing the skimpiest bikini I've ever seen in my life. A small triangle of fabric covered the tips of her breasts and not much else. Those breasts looked like cantaloupes and by their shape, I assumed they were implants. The patch of triangular fabric of the bikini bottom was just about as skimpy. While Scott had told me that his fiancée was pregnant, she didn't show, not even a little bit. Figures. She was one of those women who could get pregnant, have a baby, and then returned to her pre-pregnancy weight and shape without any effort.

  Topside, I followed Kristin to the bow but hesitated before unbuttoning my sundress. While my bikini wasn’t nearly as skimpy Kristin's, I felt uncomfortable baring myself not only in front of Scott, but Craig. The both of them stood behind the glass windows of the helm as Scott prepared to take the yacht out to sea.

  "What are you waiting for, Megan?"

  I turned to watch Kristin drape herself on one of the lounges, obviously attempting to appear sexy and voluptuous by the way she arranged her body. I glanced at the windows of the helm, saw the mere shadow of the guys inside, one of them waving. Had to be Craig. I couldn't avoid him all day and decided to do my best to ignore him and Scott as I turned toward the sea, the boat slowly making its way through the marina and parallel to the breakwater, the engines thrumming beneath my feet that I felt all the way up to my teeth.

  "I just love this old boat, don't you?" Kristin asked, eyeing the helm. "It's one of our finest possessions."

  I nodded and climbed out of my sundress, carefully folding it and then placing it on top of my hat on a deck chair. As if she'd bought the thing, I thought, hiding a smirk. I sat down on a lounge beside Kristin. "It is a beautiful boat," I acknowledged.

  "Yes, one of the nicest yachts I've ever seen," Kristin continued. "It's eighty-two feet long, a twin diesel. You wouldn't believe how much it costs."

  She wasn't even trying to hide the boastful tone. "Probably quite a bit—"

  "Nearly four million!" she exclaimed.

  I barely controlled a wince as I sat down, adjusting my position on the lounge so that I sat comfortably but didn't expose any private parts in the direction of the helm.

  "She's fully customized, right down to the interior decor. It's got all kinds of state-of-the-art techno and navigation stuff in it," Kristin continued. "Scott told me it costs nearly a quarter of a million to do that."

  "Impressive," I said, staring out to sea, the early-morning sunlight glinting off the ocean, shimmering into the distance. I loathed such blatant conceit. "Let me know when you're ready to talk plans."

  Kristin said nothing about engagement party plans, though. No, she went on and on about the boat, the costs, all of it; I was sure, as yet another way to put me in my place. Why, I don't know, but some people were just like that.

  Several hours passed. After I had baked myself in the sun long enough, and not wanting to risk a painful sunburn, I retreated toward the shade provided by the overhang. Kristin did the same, both of us now sitting on the fabric cushions of the wraparound bench at the stern. After stopping the engines and releasing the anchor, Scott suggested lunch. I had seen him glancing my way more than once over the past few hours, his gaze sweeping down my body. Every glance elicited tingles. While he and Kristin retreated to the galley to prepare lunch, I was left with Craig for a few minutes. Several minutes that became excruciatingly long, as far as I was concerned.

  Suffice it to say that Craig had roving hands, continually coming up with excuses to brush against me, to touch my hair, a shoulder, and one point, my thigh, way too close to my private parts for comfort. At that point, I excused myself, retrieved my sundress, and then went below decks, where I found two small bedrooms, one with a full-sized bed, the other with twin bunks, each bedroom equipped with a small bathroom, complete with toilets, glass shower stall, teak wood paneling, and marble countertops.

  By the time I emerged topside, the table had been set and lunch served. Water or wine. I chose water. Sushi or cheese and sausage plate. I chose the cheese and sausage, not trusting my stomach with anything more than nibbles. I had to admit that while I was impressed, I was also growing increasingly irritated. As we dined to Kristin's inane chatter about the yacht, the upcoming wedding, and the outrageous costs of each, I caught Scott stealing glances at me every once in a while. Those glances were the only redeeming aspects of the afternoon. Trying to keep my mouth shut with Kristin's constant bragging and boasting and Craig's touchy-feely crap, I was ready to go home.

  As the afternoon waned, I found myself retreating, at least mentally. I smiled politely and nodded when Kristin asked me something, even though I had the impression she didn't really care about anything I had to say, and avoided Craig's proximity as best I could. It wasn't that he was a pervert or anything like that. He seemed like a nice guy and was good looking. He and Scott had an easy-going relationship, their camaraderie undisputable. It's just that I wasn't interested. I barely had enough free time in my life for myself, let alone a relationship. While I was flattered by Craig's obvious attraction to me, I wasn't planning on reciprocating. Not to mention the fact that I had been blindsided by Kristin, trying to set me up with a guy. Of all the gall!

  At least the Dramamine had worked. By the time the sun began its descent toward the western horizon, Scott turned the yacht back toward shore. Kristin was talking about dinner plans, but I nixed her inclusion of me in them by explaining that I had made arrangements with my mom to have dinner with her and one of her best friends.

  Kristin certainly didn't need to know that my mom was pulling the evening shift tonight and wouldn't be home till eleven o'clock. Craig expressed his genuine disappointment, but Scott said nothing.

  By the time he pulled his yacht back into the slip and Craig tied the boat off, I was ready to jump ship. Literally. Scott had called ahead for a cab to be waiting for me at the entrance to the marina. I appreciated his thoughtfulness as I bid my goodbyes and thanked Scott and Kristin for their hospitality and the pleasure of the day to the three of them. I allowed Craig to give me an arm off the yacht onto the floating dock, and then I quickly excused myself and headed for the main gate.

  The minute I got into the cab, I leaned back and heaved a sigh of relief. The ride back home just managed to beat the evening rush hour traffic, and I was in our apartment in about an hour. Mentally exhausted, I took a shower, donned a comfortable pair of terry shorts and a T-shirt, and sprawled on my bed, staring up at the ceiling.

  It was much later when I woke up to darkness. I must've fallen asleep. Just as I sat up, lifting the covers to climb inside, my cell phone dinged an incoming text message. Blinking to clear my vision, I glanced at it, thinking that it was my mother, telling me that she had just left work and would be home soon. To my surprise however, I saw that it was only nine-thirty. It was a text message from Scott, asking me to meet him at a coffee shop in the morning.

  Surprised, I automatically text back that I would. I wouldn't turn down a chance to spend some alone time with Scott. I couldn't help it, but my imagination ran a bit wild and my skin tingled with excitement. I had no idea what he wanted to talk about, or why he wanted to meet in secret, but I wasn't complaining. I had been looking forward to such an opportunity since that moment I had walked into his office weeks ago.

  I had seen the glances he had given me throughout the day when he was sure Kristin wasn't looking. That made me feel a little guilty, but it wasn't as if he was seducing me. Maybe he just wanted to catch up. Maybe…

  "Admit it, Megan," I scolded myself. If he wanted to do more than catch up, what would I do?

  Ten

  Scott

  It was early Sunday morning as I waited at the Starbright Coffee Shop in Irvine for Megan, not terribly far from her apartment. I had chosen this coffee shop because I didn't want h
er to have to take a bus or a cab to meet me. If she were to ask how I'd ended up in her neck of the woods, and without letting her know I knew exactly where she lived, I would come up with some excuse as to why I was in the area.

  I sipped a cup of hot, strong black coffee, watching through the diner windows for her approach. Since she had started working for Kristin, I had done a little bit of background checking. Nothing too intrusive, but after our initial meeting, my curiosity had been piqued. I knew that Megan had pretty much been picking up odd jobs here and there, but I was curious about her mother. She had intimated that the two shared an apartment. I was stunned to learn that her mother, Anne, had become a certified nursing assistant at a neighborhood long-term care center.

  Not that there was anything wrong with that position within the healthcare field. God bless them. I knew from visiting my grandmother in such a facility years ago how hard CNAs worked. I admired them greatly, not only for their dedication and their skills, but their ability to connect with many of their residents as well as the residents’ families. Still, I felt bad that in her late forties, Anne Bryan was unable to enter the job market without any experience following her husband's death. As far as I knew, she had always been a stay-at-home mom. I remembered Megan telling me once that while her mother had often mentioned the desire to work, her husband had nixed the idea, claiming that he was perfectly capable of taking care of the family.

  I also knew that Megan's dad had committed suicide, but I had no idea what had driven him to it, and in fact had been stunned to learn the news. Up until that day, Megan had never mentioned anything about problems in the family or concerns about her father's emotional state.

  I took another sip of coffee. All that was water under the bridge. The two of them worked hard to get by, and that made yesterday's surprise even more annoying to me. While I had enjoyed seeing Megan yesterday, I hadn't expected it. I still couldn't believe that Kristin had invited both Megan and Craig without mentioning it to me. I had no idea what was behind it. Was she trying to set Craig and Megan up? And since when did Kristin take interest in anyone besides herself, not to mention go behind my back and contact Craig on her own. Even more, why hadn't Craig called me after the invite and given me a head's up?

  I wondered. Kristin knew that Craig was my best friend and always had been. Was she trying to ingratiate herself with him, to prove to him that she was a good match for me? I wasn't sure. And what was the purpose of inviting Megan? She'd spent maybe all of ten minutes talking about the engagement party plans. I came right back around to the idea she was trying to set the two of them up. Why? She didn't know Craig that well, and she'd made no effort to get to know Megan better.

  Had she guessed that I was attracted to Megan? Had she seen me eyeing her at the house? I tried to hide my feelings, that surge of desire when I saw her there, but maybe she had seen something. I felt confident that she remained unaware that Megan and I had known each other in the past.

  Still, her behavior on the boat was disconcerting. Her bragging, hanging off my arm, pressing her bikini-clad body close to mine throughout the day was an obvious effort on her part to literally stake her claim on me. Again, I wondered why she felt it was necessary. Megan and I had been careful not to divulge our previous knowledge of one another. When Kristin was around, most of the time anyway, I ignored Megan and she did likewise. I hadn't even told Craig of our previous history.

  The whole situation left me feeling unsettled and uncomfortable. I ordered a refill on my coffee and wracked my brain, trying to determine Kristin's motive for inviting Megan yesterday. Maybe Kristin just wanted to show off to someone who she thought would be impressed with such an over-the-top display of wealth. Maybe Kristin was impressed by my home, my cars, and my boat, but I knew that Megan wouldn't be. Sure, she had admired and complemented my home, but that girl was down to earth. I knew—at least the Megan I used to know—placed much more importance on family, decency, and compassion for others, not materialistic wealth. Megan had never been one of those "I need to compete with the Joneses" kind of girl.

  It made me feel even more protective toward her than I already did. I had no doubt that over the years, Megan had met all kinds of different people, and working for many of those who had more than she did was probably inured to those with a more materialistic lifestyle. Come to think of it, I felt a twinge of embarrassment at my materialistic possessions. Did I really need a house that big or fancy? Did I need two cars in my garage, or my opulent yacht? No. Did I like them? Of course I did.

  Which brought me to yet another question. Could I be happy living without them? It was that question that had kept me working as CEO of my dad's company longer than I had anticipated. These possessions, the proof of my success, had seemed so important, a part of who I was. But seeing Megan again and being around her, my focus on having those nice things, and so many possessions, embarrassed me. I—

  "Sorry I'm late."

  I startled from my thoughts and glanced up as Megan slid into the booth across from me. I smiled with pleasure. She looked fresh and red-cheeked, wearing a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, her hair pulled back into a ponytail. My dick shifted with attraction at her appearance. So down to earth, not concerned with so many of the things that women I had gone out with in the past, even Kristin, held so important. Here she was, staring at me, a smile on her face sans makeup, and she looked absolutely wonderful.

  "Not to worry, Megan. I just got here a few minutes ago myself," I lied. "Coffee?"

  She shook her head. "If it's all the same to you, I'd love a diet soda."

  I nodded, caught the attention of the waitress behind the counter, and asked for a diet soda. She came with the soda in a minute and Megan sipped it, eyebrows raised in question. She swallowed and set the glass back down on the table.

  "So, what did you want to see me about?"

  That I remembered. Always to the point. I didn't dare tell her that I just wanted to see her, but I did have another reason. "I wanted to apologize for yesterday," I began. "I swear, I had no idea that Kristin had invited you. Or Craig." I realized how that sounded. "Don't get me wrong, I was glad to see you, and I hope you had a nice time. It was just… unexpected."

  "I was rather surprised too," she admitted. "At any rate, it's not a big deal, and I did have a good time… most of the time, anyway."

  She laughed and took another sip of her soda, rolled her eyes. "That Craig… he's quite an interesting character."

  I smiled. "He was quite taken with you. I apologize for him if he got too touchy-feely. He just gets… exuberant."

  She laughed again. "I probably shouldn't say this, because it's wrong, but I'd do it again… if you and I were alone, I mean."

  Her eyes widened a bit and her cheeks flushed with color. She took another sip of her soda, her hands shaking slightly, eyes downcast. She placed the glass back down on the table. "I'm sorry, Scott, that didn't come out the way I meant it."

  Again, my dick wiggled with interest. I wasn't imagining it. I was attracted to her. She was so down to earth, so genuine. No pretenses. She spoke what was on her mind. No subterfuge, no conniving.

  "I'm going to be blunt, Scott, if that's all right with you."

  "By all means." I nodded. "You and I always had an open, honest relationship. I know that we agreed not to let anyone know that we previously knew each other, but I'm still counting on that bluntness that you had when we were in high school. You were never afraid to speak your mind to me, and I don't want you to start now."

  "All right then, here goes." One more sip of soda as she gathered her thoughts, and then she spoke. "I'm gathering that there's something going on between you and Kristin. I'm not going to pry into your business, but would I be wrong in stating that I don't think you're quite ready to get married? That I might even go so far as to suggest that the pregnancy wasn't planned and you're just trying to do the right thing?"

  I felt the jolt in the pit of my stomach. I might be able to fool my dad, and probably
Kristin, but I'd never been able to fool or hide things from Megan. Maybe that's what I liked so much about her. I didn't have to pretend. I could be myself with Megan, warts and all.

  "You're right, Megan. I made a mistake, and I have to take responsibility for it."

  She nodded, turning the glass of soda in circles on the tabletop, now seeping moisture on the outside. "I'm sorry," she said softly, glancing upward. "You can't get out of it?"

  I shrugged. How could I tell Megan, a woman who was living paycheck to paycheck, that I was only agreeing to marry Kristin because I was afraid of losing my inheritance—my multimillion dollar inheritance? How shallow, how callous, how materialistic did that sound? I shook my head. "I had one drink too many," I said, lifting my hands. "I can't deny what I did."

  "Forgive me for saying this, Scott, but sometimes, you’re just too much of a nice guy. It's obvious to me that Kristin is more than happy with the situation. I just wish that you didn't look so… trapped."

  I glanced up sharply at her choice of words. She knew me well, or at least seemed to. Her gaze was steadfast, open, and I couldn't deny it. I felt something for her, even after all these years. I should have made my move on her a decade ago, but no, I'd been playing around. Now that I… it didn't matter. Finally, I took another sip of my now lukewarm coffee and offered another shrug. I seemed to be doing that a lot lately. I sought to change of subject.